


a teaching opportunity

by trace_de_pas



Category: Hockey RPF
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 10:58:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10463343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trace_de_pas/pseuds/trace_de_pas
Summary: In which Mike Babcock gets drunk and imparts some important wisdom.Alternatively, Nazem Kadri, starfish no more.





	

**Author's Note:**

> if you found this story by googling yourself or someone you know, please turn back now. I'm begging you. 
> 
> blame [disarm_d](http://disarmd.tumblr.com/) for this, I do. she is 100% at fault. choose your friends wisely, kids.

Look. Mike has been surrounded by hockey his entire life. And he’s old enough now that that’s a long ass time. He doesn’t like to coddle his players; if he’s giving everything he has to get them to win, they need to be doing the same. He doesn’t give a fuck about whatever personal drama they have going on as long as they leave it off the ice. And there’s a fuck ton of personal drama. The way these boys grow up, it makes for a lot of mess. 

He knows he’s had quite the career, coaching some amazing teams all the way. This win feels different. He doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the roar of the crowd when the clock ran out, the buzzer drowned out by thousands of voices. W*nning it at home, raising the *** at centre ice, the ACC ringing with cheers, it’s a memory he knows will stick with him.

It’s been hours since then, champagne and beer making him loose enough to enjoy the antics of his players. Any other day, he’d be ducking out, letting them have their fun without having to worry about him watching. But they’ve all earned this, paid for it in blood, sweat, and tears. 

Lou’s house is lit up, players and family spilling out into the backyard, someone playing music over the speakers, and of course plenty of champagne. Mike is tucked into a corner on the patio, removed enough from the wilder of the festivities. 

“Coach!” 

Naz sits down beside him, heavily enough that Mike knows he’s well on his way to shitfaced.

“Naz,” Mike says, giving him a smile.

Naz beams back at him, his cheeks flushed. “Why’re you all alone?”

“My wife went to get a drink.”

“You don’t have a drink?” Naz asks, outraged. “You need a drink! Let me get you a drink!”

Naz makes to get up but Mike pulls him back down. “It’s alright, she’s getting me one. Just keep me company.”

Naz settles into the chair, listing a little to the side. He’s looking towards the throng of people by the pool. It takes a moment for Mike to figure out that he’s focused on one of the girls. 

“You should talk to her,” Mike says, because he’s drunk enough to think this is a good idea. Naz played great in the game, he played great all season; he deserves to celebrate.

“Yeah?” Naz says, looking hopeful.

“You’re a ******* *** ********, son. She already knows you have soft hands, show her your other talents.”

Naz looks confused. “What do you mean?”

Mike knows that look of confusion. He’s been surrounded by hockey players his entire adult life, he knows what that look means. 

“You have to show her a good time, Nazem.”

“I mean, yeah, of course. If she’s down, I’m totally game to fuck her.”

Mike tuts, shaking his head. “What? Just stick your dick in her and call it a day? You need foreplay.”

Naz’s brow is furrowed. “Yeah, she has nice tits. I can-”

“You need to eat her out.”

Naz chokes. “What?”

“Come on, tell me you’re not that selfish.”

“I’m not selfish!”

“On the ice, maybe. But it looks like you are in bed.”

“I’ll have you know-”

Mike cuts him off, because he can guess what he’s going to say, and he doesn’t want to hear it. “I’m sure you’re great at sex, but do you want some advice?”

And here’s the thing about being a hockey player, you spend your entire life with people telling you what to do. It conditions the way you react to, say, your coach offering advice.

“Fine.”

Mike takes a sip of his drink. Sure, earlier his wife was gone to get him a drink, but I can’t imagine him actually saying this without the influence of alcohol. So, he takes a sip of his drink. “Nazem, when you take a woman to bed, it is now your priority to make sure she has a good time. Yes, sex is about feeling good, but nothing feels as good as making someone else fall apart. As a rule of thumb, start out slow. A lot can be lost when you rush.”

Naz nods, though he still looks dubious.

“Every woman is different, what works on one won’t work on the other. Pay attention to what she likes, what makes her react. And for god’s sake, eat her out. Giving head should be reciprocal, so if she gives you a blowjob, you better be ready to spend some time with your head between her legs.”

The saddest part is that it looks like, to Naz, this is entirely new information. 

By the time his wife comes back, Mike has gone in enough detail that he’s planning on drinking heavily enough that he blacks this entire conversation out, for both their sakes. He’s just finishing up an explanation of how beneficial sex toys can be when he sees his wife walking across the patio, two drinks in her hand. 

“You should be letting Naz celebrate Mike,” she chides. 

“It’s alright Mrs. Babcock,” Naz says, jumping up from his seats.

“Just guy talk,” Mike says, smiling at her. 

“Well then, I can go if you need more time for ‘guy talk,’” she says.

“It’s okay! I have to go. Thanks coach!”

With that, Naz is off, going straight towards the pool.

“Mike, that poor boy looked terrified,” she admonishes, sitting down. 

“I was just giving him some advice. Kids these days,” he grumbles, downing one drink before reaching for the other one. 

She laughs, and the subject moves on. 

He has enough to drink, that in the morning, he only vaguely remembers the conversation they’d had. Mike isn’t completely sure he didn’t imagine it, what with the way celebrations had continued one he’d gotten home. It’s not until months and months later that it comes up again, it the oddest of ways. 

Naz brings a girl to one of the team events. She’s nice enough, and Naz seems to like her, and that’s where Mike’s interest ends. Then he finds himself alone with her, both of them in a quiet corner.

“I should thank you,” she says, smiling at him.

“Really? Why?”

“I don’t want to go into too much detail, but like Naz mentioned you giving him advice about, uh, his diet plan?”

“The trainers usually handle that…”

“I meant, um, eating out?”

The conversation rushes back to him with startling clarity.

“Yeah,” she says, with a little laugh. “That. Let’s just say he took you advice, with great results.”

Mike wonders if there’s a way to go back in time and punch himself in the face.

“I owe you one coach.”

She walks away, leaving Mike to question every one of his life decisions. He watches as he makes her way to Naz, as Naz wraps an arm around her waist, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

Talk about legacy.


End file.
